


The Unlacing

by reynkout



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Blowjobs, F/M, Kissing, Masturbation, Sensitive Topic, Sex, Taboo, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, a little ooc, active libido, historical racism, no harm intended, north south division
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynkout/pseuds/reynkout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in as a sheltered child in the Leonhardt residence has made Annie blind from the harsh racism toward dark-colored people all around her. When a business friend comes to visit her father, he brings a strange person with him who does not move, speak or barely look like they're living at all. Curiosity gets the better of Annie, and all she wants to do now is unravel who this peculiar guest is. Sometimes, curiosity kills the cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unlacing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I, in no way, own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack On Titan, or else Marco would still be alive. Also, the topic you are about to read in this fanfic is very touchy, dealing with the racism problem between the North and South back when slavery was around. If that's not your cup of tea, I suggest not reading this and pressing the backspace button to redirect you to the last page you were at. Flames will be reported and deleted. This is a piece of fan fiction, created and bent to fit the author's plot and story line. Thank you.
> 
> Hallihallo!  
> This took me all day long to write, which is unbelievably slow for me. I was haunted by all these strange dreams ever since coming back from LA and ending AX on a super great note, so I had to get all that brain porn out of my head somehow. I understand that this topic is super sensitive even though it's been over twenty years ago (this particular setting is over a hundred years old!). I didn't want to go into too much detail about it, so I refrained from using any derogatory terms while writing.  
> Anywho, I think Bertl and Annie are the cutest straight couple ever besides Connie and Sasha, so I wanted to use them as my main couple for this piece. I had to do so much sex research for this because I'm really not all comfortable to all this... haha..! You know, description.  
> Enough of me sweating all my worries on you. Enjoy! Let me know what else I can do and how I can improve!

Ever since she was born, Annie Leonhardt lived in a so-called mansion. To be more exact, she and her father lived in a huge house on a gently sloped hill of green, green grass. The house in itself was not that big but the exterior, for some strange reason that Annie never thought to question, was. They lived peacefully in their luxury house. They were generous and humble; as generous and humble as rich people could get, that is. Annie was tutored and never strayed far from the mansion. She didn’t have to, of course. Even the sports she liked were played in the proximity of the Leonhardt residence.

Annie loved to spar and wrestle. Her father would always play and teach her his fighting skills when she was younger. She loved to compete with her father and those who served them. It was because she was the only child, and being a mischievous little kid would bring her trouble. Instead, she would try to be perfect and do everything to her very best. In her mind, actions were greater than words.

She was overprotected, but overprotected didn’t mean Annie never had those urges in her to huddle up and lock herself in the bedroom and slide a hand under her petticoat. At thirteen she began to experiment, unsure what these feelings were. The first spasm she’d ever experienced was a shock to her. Her cheeks burned and her undergarments were soaked through while her mind was still foggy from the high. Annie continued to discover more about her body as the years passed. She grew into a petite, beautiful young woman with wit in her personality that could make her come off as too good for others. The urges she felt slowly dissipated until she rarely did it anymore.

And due to her sheltered life in the mansion, Annie knew little of the world around her. This was one of the downfalls being a rich kid; not knowing about the corruption constantly going around the Leonhardt residence. Well, she was sheltered until the day one of her father’s business partners decided to drop in for a visit.

She was forced to wear a dress that was made of some heavy, expensive fabric. The skirt of it felt like velvet. Her face was powdered, then her dark blond eyelashes were covered in a chocolate brown mascara that accentuated her light blue eyes. Her cheeks were smudged with a pearly-like pink rouge to give her face some color. A creamy red lipstick was painted onto her small lips. Her blond hair was pulled back, braided and pinned into a bun at the back of her head. When she looked into the mirror of her bathroom, Annie almost didn’t recognize herself. She looked so feminine that it just wasn’t her, the Annie Leonhardt, soon-seventeen years old.

When she saw the guests, she looked down, bowing her head. She curtsied, weary of her father’s business partner. He was pale, his beard a grungy grey color. His belly was the tell-tale sign that he was well off to do. His light eyes were sunken in, like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep for _years_ … and there seemed to be someone else as well. Her eyes travelled to the figure that sat in her favorite lounge chair. It was covered in bandages, so much so that Annie couldn’t make out if it was a girl or boy.

“Ah, this is my daughter Annie,” She heard her father introduce her. “She will be seventeen in a few months.”

“What a pleasure to meet you, Annie.” She tried not to cringe when the man next to the sitting figure walked over to her. He attempted to kiss her hand, but Annie shook it off. Her father laughed nervously, giving her a scolding look.

“I prefer to shake hands,” she said quietly. The man nodded, holding out his hand. She took it, shaking his hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr.…”

“Hoover,” the man completed her sentence. Annie made a glance at the bandaged thing sitting in the chair. Mr. Hoover noticed, and explained, “This is my son, Berthold. Unfortunately, he’s been through a lot. He isn’t in the best shape right now. I apologize for that.” He looked at his son. Berthold neither moved or said anything. Annie could have sworn Berthold was an artifact mummy ready for the museum.

“Why don’t you go and greet him, Annie?” her father suggested.

Almost more than happy to get away from Hoover senior, Annie rushed towards Berthold. “Hello Berthold, my name is Annie Leonhardt.” she introduced herself to the bandaged man, curtsying. “I am the daughter of one of your father’s business friends.” Berthold made no movement to recognize her presence. A frown wiggled its way onto Annie’s lips.

“Berthold is just shy,” reasoned Mr. Hoover. “He’ll warm up to you.”

Noon soon became evening, and the four had dinner together. Berthold had to be fed, which Annie found peculiar. Watching the morsels of food on the spoon disappear into the dark opening in the bandages that lead to Berthold’s mouth. The spoon reemerged with no sign of food whatsoever. This was the only sign to Annie that told her Berthold was really living.

She barely touched her own plate until her father cleared his throat, snapping her out of her concentrated observation. Annie looked down, speeding up her pace to furiously cut at her sausage and dip it in a large dollop of mustard. She shoved it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before shovelling a clot of boiled cabbage down her throat.

Mr. Hoover chuckled. “Looks like your daughter has taken an interest in my son,”

Annie was displeased when she heard her father sigh. “It seems to be that way, but she still has another year before she decides to marry or continue her studies further before marrying.”

“You still give her the option to study? She isn’t as young as you think to not marry.” inquired Mr. Hoover. 

“Yes, and that’s because she’s my only child…”

Annie tuned out their conversation, not wanting to hear all the things they said about her while she was still in the same room. She was sure Berthold didn’t want to hear it, either. She tucked a fly-away strand of blond hair behind her ear, finishing her meal. The topic changed from her to the slave cargo that came in just a few days ago. When her father and Mr. Hoover started talking about the taboo relationship between a wife and her slave, Annie’s ears perked up slightly.

“Can you believe she slept with him? Of course, they were both separated and the thing was put to death.” her father gossiped. “And she wanted to keep the baby, too. The poor bastard, the child will grow up, not knowing it’s half devil, half man.”

Mr. Hoover listened, keeping silent save for a few grunts when he was agreeing with something Leonhardt pointed out. He seemed disinterested in it all.

Nighttime rolled around, and the Hoovers were still there. Annie’s father invited them then to stay overnight. The old playroom across from Annie’s bedroom was to be opened and rearranged to accommodate Berthold. Servants were to check up on him right before he went to bed, making sure he was taken care of and his bandages replaced. Another room down the hall would be Mr. Hoover’s for the night. Annie’s opinion was asked for but, quite honestly, she had no protests about the sleeping arrangement. In fact, she was curious about Berthold and wanted to sneak in for a peek later that night.

Annie was relieved to have her hair unbraided and her heavy clothes removed. She bathed in silence, dunking her head into the steaming water more than once. She dried off with a fluffy towel, pursing her lips as she did so. Annie was dressed into a soft nightgown that was more of a long camisole than anything else. She preferred it; it made her feel comfortable and was easier to reach under when she had those carnal desires, especially when she was thirteen.

Her long, damp hair hung down her small frame. The household servants tucked her in and wished her a goodnight. She nodded, wishing them the same before they left her room. Before Annie could shift to her side, her father came in to say goodnight.

“Sleep well, Annie.” he stroked her forehead, her bangs pushed back. “Tomorrow, everything will resume as it should,”

“Goodnight,” she whispered as he left, clicking the door shut behind him.

It seemed like an eternity before the sounds of people rushing in and out of Berthold’s room ceased from across Annie’s bedroom. She waited a few more minutes before crawling out of her bed and stuffing her pillows underneath her sheets, creating a dummy in her bed. Silently, Annie slipped out of her room and tip-toed to Berthold’s. She opened the door a smidge before making her way into his bedroom and closing the door behind herself without a sound.

The first thing she was greeted with was the soft sound of Berthold’s breathing. He was laying on his back in a bed that looked almost as big as Annie’s own. His blankets covered up to his armpits, his arms and hands settled above the sheets. Annie climbed onto the bed, sitting next to Berthold. His breathing paused suddenly; the pace was faster when he began to breathe again. Annie could assume that he had woken up to her presence. She shushed him quietly, as if she could see Berthold open his mouth. With itching fingers, she unraveled the unsoiled, fresh bandages from his face. What would she see? Was he a leper? Was his face festering with maggots? Would she scream, breaking her cover?

Tanned skin, more than a few shades darker than her own, was revealed as she rolled away the gauze bandages from Berthold’s face. Annie unwrapped him faster, unraveling until his face and neck was naked. Green eyes stared back up at her blue ones. The moonlight that leaked through the large windows illuminated both of their faces. The last bandage fell away. Annie stopped. Oh no. He was hot.

Berthold had large, almond shaped eyes. His eyes were green like raw, unpolished gemstones with some hazelnut color towards the black pupil. His face was smooth, his jaw slim and his nose had a bridge that Annie found so kissable. Berthold looked nothing like his father. He was so handsome. Annie stared, awestruck. 

“Why?” she whispered, mainly to herself. Why would his father want to cover such a beautiful face such as Berthold’s? Berthold made eye contact with her. He licked his dry lips, a blush over his tanned cheeks. Is this why Mr. Hoover said nothing about the incident of the wife and her affair with a slave?

Curiosity got the better of the blond girl, and she began to strip the male of his bandages. She could redo them later, or pin the fault on Berthold for taking off the bandages. She threw the sheets off of him. Annie felt up his chest once she had uncovered it, his hot skin burning her sensitive finger pads. His body was slim yet lean, and muscle could be seen. Nevertheless, he was a man, and she knew it. Annie stopped for a moment at his waist, tracing her fingers along that trail of dark hair from his navel to the still-covered section of his body. Suddenly, the ache in her chest she had from looking at his eyes burst into heat that seared her nerves all over. Annie shook, blood rushing to her ears. She began to panic internally. What was going on with her? Why was she all weak all of a sudden? Had she dropped her walls around Berthold? She noticed she was sprawled on top of Berthold, a man no doubt, with her face so close to his crotch area. Something in her lower abdomen almost felt like tickling, but it made her even hotter than before. This, this feeling… Annie was sure that it was the same urging from the times she touched herself at night when she was younger.

The blond girl hastened her fingers, practically ripping the bandages from Berthold’s body. When the gauze lay at his feet, Annie wanted to pounce him. Instead, she straddled his hips, her panties coming close to his nakedness. Berthold’s blush became more pronounced. Annie cupped his face in both of her hands, looking into his eyes so that the man couldn’t look away from her. Annie slid her hands down to his neck when their noses bumped together; she angled her face to press their foreheads together. The two stayed like that for a while, then Annie decided to take it a step further. She leveled her lips to Berthold’s, mashing hers onto his. A guttural noise came from Berthold’s throat, full of surprise. There was no echo, as the playroom had been padded to prevent Annie from injuring herself when she was younger.

Annie roped her arms over Berthold’s shoulders, kissing him with undeniable force. She wanted him to respond to her so much, still curious as ever… And then it happened. Berthold’s lips moved against hers, reciprocating her actions. She unconsciously moaned, flattening her body to his. When he started to nip at her lower lip, she gasped and he took advantage to snake his tongue into her mouth.

Their tongues swirled against one another, Annie starting to become lightheaded if she wasn’t already. She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling. She nearly squeaked when Berthold brought his hands to her waist, massaging his fingers into her nightgown. She broke the kiss, trying not to gulp for air. She licked his chapped lips, batting his hands off of her, and pulled up her gown. The blond girl tossed it off the bed, her body nude save for her panties. Annie slid them down and off her legs, only to discard them somewhere on the floor.

Her face was hot as she picked up one of Berthold’s large tanned hands, guiding it to her chest. She brushed his palm over her nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. Her breath hitched, the feeling inside her boiling hotter.

Annie dropped his hand and covered her mouth with her own when Berthold leaned in to take her nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue, making her heightened nerves send crazy signals to her mind. She whined when he released it, only to pinch at it with his forefinger and thumb. Annie began to pant into her fist.

“Ah, ah, Bertl,” she ground out, shortening his name. She groaned. Berthold cupped her other breast in his hand, squeezing it.

He buried his face into her cleavage then, sucking at the soft skin there. He kissed down to her taut stomach. Berthold brought his hands to her behind, squeezing it lightly. He lifted her hips up until her sex was in front of him. A lustful, fearful expression was painted on Annie’s face but she didn’t do anything to stop him. Berthold looked into her blue eyes with a look that was so gentle that the blond girl’s heart could have beat out of her chest. When he put his lips to her and sucked, Annie cried out. She took her hands to grip his dark hair. He suckled at the nub where she was most sensitive, giving her sensations that her body wanted so badly. His fingers found its way to her opening, feeling it was slick and hot for him.

The man worked a finger into her, then another, twisting them. Annie moaned, toes curling and uncurling. She worked her hips, attempting to move herself up and down on Berthold’s digits. Her eyes half-lidded, she shoved herself down with such vigor until she groaned loudly, halting. Berthold rubbed his fingers over her walls, searching for the rough spot in her that would drive her closer to the edge.

With a particularly breathy moan, Annie’s back arched, her arm going to her mouth. He’d found it. Berthold stimulated the patch in her a little more before pulling out and allowing the blond girl to relax her leg muscles. She was pushed down, her legs spread out. Berthold crawled over her, his knees placed by either side of her head. His package between his legs hung low, wanting Annie’s attention.

Annie could smell the musky scent of Berthold’s dick, taking in the way the head was colored a dark reddish and glistening at the tip. She drew him slowly into her mouth, her excessive saliva coating his cock thoroughly. She bobbed her head, playing with the balls in his sac with a hand. The man let out small groans, relishing the wetness of Annie’s mouth. He had enough control to keep his hips from pushing up and choking her. Annie gripped the base of his organ, stroking it up and down and licking all over the head. The taste was unlike anything she’d ever tried, yet she figured it could be addicting. Berthold dropped his head to his chest, drops of sweat falling from his dark locks and onto Annie’s face. He eased her off softly, settling between her open, inviting legs. Berthold hiked up her legs over his sweaty shoulders, his hands clammy with perspiration.

A thousand thoughts of doubt flew through Annie’s head for a second until she heard Berthold speak up for the first time, “No need to be nervous,”

She smirked up at him, trying to play it cool. “Look who’s talking,” she said, noticing the way his hands are shaking.

And then he pushed in, taking Annie’s breath away. She flailed her arms to grasp at something, clawing at the man’s biceps. It was painful for a second; something in her felt like it was gushing a little bit, but then it was gone. Berthold is a little too big for her small size, she decided, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. He stopped, letting Annie get her breathing back to a regular pace again before starting up, thrusting in shallowly.

Annie whimpered from time to time. The way Berthold’s dick slid in and out of her was so arousing. Their skin slapped together, fire burning in the pit her stomach. She attempted to match her breathing with her partner’s, putting a hand on his chest. She yelped when the man found her spot again, aiming his thrusts at it.

Annie’s blond hair was swept from her face as Berthold lessened the strength of his movements. He leaned down to kiss her, moving in and out of her gently. Annie moaned into his mouth, both of them using tongue to send each other messages. When the blond girl poked her tongue into Berthold’s cheek sharply and repeatedly, he retracted, grabbing her hips. He started to go in faster and harder than before. Annie scratched at his arms, her voice getting louder and louder. He stopped abruptly, quieting her. She nodded, understanding. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught while they were at it. She bit at her lip to keep herself quiet, but couldn’t catch the occasional outbursts when Berthold rubbed against something too good not to make a noise.

The man hoisted her up then, unhooking her legs from his shoulders and having her sit in his lap. He thrust up into her, lifting her down to meet him in the middle. Annie nearly screamed, biting into his sweaty, tanned shoulder. She moaned again, thankful she was muffled by his skin.

Annie couldn’t help but rocking back down onto her partner automatically. He was hitting that place in her that made her feel so good. The burning in her stomach was building more and more. She felt like she was going to urinate, but how could she? She hadn’t had anything to drink since dinner. The blond girl held Berthold in a hug as he thrust into her in a harsh pace.

“Oh, no, Bertl,” she cried out into the stuffy air of their lovemaking. She threw back her head in abandon, trying desperately to get a control on things.

And then a rush of pleasure washed over her.

Annie screamed out her partner’s name, feeling her muscles constrict, her body fluttering around Berthold’s organ. He growled, leaning back until she was on top of him.

Annie was lost in a world of white-washed pleasure masking her eyes. She could feel Berthold pumping in and out, her skin a bit oversensitive from her orgasm. Her partner kept thrusting, though, poking a spot so deep in her that she’s never experienced before. She groaned into his ear, her eyes closing. She was exhausted, but Berthold wasn’t quite done yet. At this point, she wasn’t sure if he was close to coming or not, but something was stacking on top of one another again in her belly. She kissed up his neck, licking at his earlobe.

“Annie,” Berthold groaned. He sped up, his thrusts going sporadic now.

Something in Annie spilled over, and she gasped as multiple spasms shook her body. Her mind went blank this time; she dug her nails into Berthold, feeling him spill his seed into the deepest part of her. Her body tightened around him, muscles contracting, milking all she could get from him.

They came down to reality again, catching their breaths until Annie looked into Berthold’s gemstone orbs and kissed him on the cheek. After a few minutes, they reluctantly parted, Berthold slipping out of her with a grunt. They settled on the mattress in a comfortable position together, Annie covering them up with the blankets. She curled up close to the man’s chest, her eyelids already drooping. She’d wake up early tomorrow morning, before anyone was awake, and sneak back to her bedroom. Right now, she was too tired to get up and leave the warmth of Berthold and their afterglow. She felt a large hand run through her long hair before resting on her back.

“I think I love you,” Berthold announced sleepily.

“Do you, or not?”

“... I love you,” he confessed.

Annie smiled a little, drifting off to sleep with Berthold by her side.

“I love you, too…”

* * *

The couple was rudely awakened by loud shouting. Annie squinted around the room to see the servants staring at them in shock, some of the ladies looked like they were about to fall over. Who was doing all the yelling, though, was none other than her father and Mr. Hoover.

“Annie! Get away from that thing right now!” She heard him say.

“Thing?” Mr. Hoover was outraged. “That _thing_ is my son!”

“How can this be your son if his skin is colored the tone of a devil’s?” Annie’s father reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of bed. She grasped a sheet with her, hiding her nakedness as she was dragged out of bed.

Mr. Hoover’s face was worried, filled with more lines from stress and pressure. He pinched his nose, saying, “It’s not like I wanted it to happen. Berthold is my wife’s son.”

“And you think you can just accept it? He looks just like one of the slaves, Hoover! You can’t possibly want to label him as your son.” Annie’s father’s grip was starting to hurt her arm.

“Papa, please,” she begged, so unlike herself.

She received a glare, and was thrown back, hitting the wall. Annie knew her father was angry now. The first blow she received was a kick, knocking the wind out of her diaphragm. Another hit and her face was snapped to the side. Annie winced, unwilling to let herself to hold her stinging cheek. Once more, a kick to her stomach and she choked, coughing up bile onto the padded floor.

“Stop!” Berthold’s voice roared. It was so shocking that, for a moment, everything did. He stood at his normal height, towering over Annie’s father. He had tied a bedsheet around his waist to cover himself from any prying eyes. “Stop it! Why are you hitting your daughter? You’re just as wrong hitting a woman as she’s wrong for sleeping with a man she’s not supposed to,”

“Berthold,” Mr. Hoover’s voice was low.

“Dad, just let me say what I need to say.” He took a deep breath. “Mr. Leonhardt, I know you treasure your daughter, and yes, she came to me, a man you consider devil spawn. But please, don’t hurt her because of me. I’ll do anything to protect her.” Berthold was sweating profusely. “I, I love her.” Annie feared that her father would start beating on Berthold now.

Annie looked over at Berthold’s father, whose face was filled with shock. Actually, it looked like everyone in the room was in shock right now. Her father couldn’t believe his ears. Annie’s heart swelled when she heard Berthold say those three words, letting everyone know that he loved her, that they should be together no matter if Bertl’s skin was dark or fair. She realized that she herself wanted to be with him. No one else would suffice.

“Hoover,” Annie’s father turned to Hoover senior. “Aren’t you going to say anything about this?”

Mr. Hoover shuffled in his spot. Berthold looked at him with his green eyes almost pleadingly. Mr. Hoover shook his head, letting out a sigh. “Leonhardt, if you think I’m going to stone my son to death, then you’re wrong. I cannot allow myself to do that. I love my wife, and therefore I must love Berthold like my own kin.” He looked just as nervous as Berthold. Annie would’ve found it funny if she wasn’t in the middle of this situation. Her father went pale. He was silent for some time.

“But you agreed that this type of relationship is taboo!”

“No, I never did. The mistake is on your part.” A pause. “Come, Berthold, we must leave for another appointment.” Berthold followed his father to the door. His gaze was on Annie, though. He didn’t ever want to leave her. “Goodbye, Mr. Leonhardt.”

“Wait,” Annie spoke up. She barely recognized it as her own voice. “When will I see you again?”

“Anytime you would like, dear,” Mr. Hoover tipped his hat at her.

“Never,” her father corrected. “not while I’m still living.”

Annie raced to Berthold. They kissed, Berthold having to bend his back at an awkward angle to reach the blond girl’s lips.

“I love you,” she whispered before letting the man go. She bet her father was fuming by now at her foolish, love-filled action. Berthold pecked her on the forehead before leaving with his father down the hall.

When she looked back to her father, he had already turned his shoulder toward her. She expected years full of silent treatment and hardships.

* * *

Winter blasted the warmth out of everything. Annie’s father caught a terrible cough, so terrible that he was coughing up blood into his drink. Much sooner than expected, Annie was called over to the side of his bed. He told her to come closer. She did so, leaning in to listen to his ever-weakening voice. What he said made her breakdown and cry. She sobbed, laughed hysterically, and huddled into a ball in her own bed. Her father passed away with an ironic expression of total peace.

Annie did not cry at his funeral.

Not even a couple days later, a letter came to the house, addressed to her. The back of it was stamped wax in a grey color. She opened it, not surprised when the beginning sentences sent its condolences to her late father. What did make an impression on her was the first question that came up:

_Marry me?_

Annie rushed down the hall, running outside to the courtyard. She looked at the grey sky, clouds overhead, and snow drifting down to the earth. She sniffled, his nose and cheeks feeling like they were becoming frostbitten.

A shuffle in the snow; Annie turned around to see a bandage wrapped figure alongside a grey suited man waiting for her at the gate of her yard. She raced to him, unchaining the gate before swinging them open. She buried her face into her partner’s fur coat. Strong arms enveloped her, embracing her.

“Yes,”

December 30th would always be a big date for Annie and Berthold. Everyone knew that.

_Yes._

**Author's Note:**

> Holdt it, Annie! If you liked this short story, why not give it a kudo? A comment is even nicer!  
> Thanks!


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